Jingle Snape
by Heptagon
Summary: Fred and George have a plan. If everything goes according to it, there shall be a Christmas version of Professor Snape that everyone would like better. Except for Snape, possibly.


**Jingle Snape**

They actually got the idea from Flitwick, although George kept stubbornly insisting that it had been his idea before, that it had been none other than him that had suggested it to Flitwick in the first place. Fred considered the issue with equally stubborn disbelief.

But wherever Flitwick had got such a splendid and inspiring idea, the fact was that the week before winter holidays he wore a bell at the end of his hat, which gave a merry holiday jingle every time he moved. The students loved it – it was merry, and they could always tell by sound if Flitwick was approaching and had ample time to get busy with whatever they were supposed to be doing before he reached their desk.

"All Professors should wear a bell like that," George had declared, setting loose the proverbial snowball.

"At least some Professors," Fred had spoken the words he later considered the beginning of everything.

And so their brilliant plan was born. In the name of Christmas spirit, in the season of kindness and good will, they decided to put a bell on Snape, so that unsuspecting and suspecting students alike would always hear him coming and have ample time to put on the innocent face and hide in the alcove, before they were caught off guard and yelled at.

The plan having been thus formed, Fred and George started looking for the opportune moment, and nothing sounded better than the double potions on their last day before the holidays. Well, to tell the truth, nothing sounded worse than double potions on their last day before the holidays, but if they already had to be thus tortured, they could at least get something good out of it.

And all had gone rather well, as much as such a thing is possible in double potions. At least there were no Slytherins in the class, and Snape was always strolling between the desks, reluctant to miss any chance of making an acid remark or giving discouragement. This meant that insults were flying and Snape was more or less content and careless enough to leave his back exposed towards the twins, who had their bells ready and waiting. Therefore it was very surprising indeed that despite those many golden opportunities, the lesson was nearing its end and Snape still did not jingle.

Fred and George started to feel the pressure more acutely. All around them, Gryffindors were growing to look panicky and Snape's sneer was a lot more gleeful, but their problem was not as trivial as a messy potion. Their potion was a mess, but that was a minor detail. What was one more T to going down in history as the geniuses who put a bell on their Professor, and not just any Professor. The call of fame and glory was too delicious to resist, not to mention the idea of a jingling Snape.

Fred sent a desperate look round the room and then nudged George, "I'm going to get more of... erm... this stuff," he said, pointing to a slimy slithering plant on their desk.

"I don't think we need any more of it," George said, staring into their cauldron where the potion bubbled lazily, the colour and substance of very thick mud.

"No, but Snape's there," Fred whispered, "and I might just get the very chance we need."

"Then go with my blessings, oh brother of mine," George said, a bit disappointed that this last chance was noticed by Fred, and not him, but if they succeeded, he wasn't going to be jealous and forbid his twin a little fame and glory, especially since the whole idea had been _his_ creation.

George watched as his brother stealthily crossed the room towards the supply cabinet, holding his breath each time Snape moved. But the Professor didn't glance in Fred's direction, and he made it to his destination without being discovered. George held his breath and tried to conceal his excitement as Fred left the supply cabinet and crept towards Snape and his exposed back. Just another step, just a little more, and success was in his reach. He saw Fred lift his hand, the bell in it, and move it towards the target.. almost, almost there, yes, that was it, just like I taught you, Fred, slow and stealthy, you've got it, yes, yes, yes!

"Mr Weasley! Why are you sneaking behind my back?" Snape announced, wheeling around with the look that he had known Fred's whereabouts the whole time and had also been looking for the opportune moment. But Fred was not born yesterday, and he did have a very brilliant brother to learn from. George, in case anyone wondered.

"I was just getting some more supplies, sir," Fred replied, innocence itself.

"Really? The lesson is ending in two minutes," Snape said, loud enough for the whole class to hear and panic.

"Plenty of time for one last ingredient," Fred said serenely.

Snape frowned at him, then glanced at the stuff he was holding, then back at him.

"One minute till the end of lesson," he announced, and then nodded at Fred, "You better hurry with that last ingredient."

"Yes, sir," Fred returned to his table and brother.

"Is he looking at us?" he asked, the moment he arrived.

"Yes."

"Then we'd better put it in," Fred suggested, holding his hand over the cauldron.

"The bell?" George asked, raising a brow, and wondering what Snape would think if their potion started to jingle. Well, it couldn't make things worse than they already were.

Fred gave him a look, "I was not born yesterday. I got some stuff from the cabinet, in case Snape would catch me."

"What stuff?"

Fred opened his palm. There was something shapeless and bright red in it.

"Ah, it can't hurt much," George reasoned, "our potion is already a mess."

"Is he still looking?"

"Yes."

"Oh well," Fred shrugged and dropped it into the cauldron. Both twins peeked at the potion, curious and just a little bit apprehensive. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Then, after another ten seconds, nothing continued to happen.

"Sunk in the mud," George commented, then gave the mud a thoughtful glance, "you know, it does look nice and sticky, perhaps we could use it for something?"

Fred opened his mouth to answer, when there was a deep fat moist gulp from the potion. Fred and George exchanged a look, and the next moment they had both dived under the protecting cover of their textbooks. The potion gave another big wet gulp, and then nothing.

Three seconds later, the world exploded.

o.o.o

'Twas the night before Christmas and all was more or less quiet in the castle of Hogwarts. Except for Snape's classroom, where Fred and George were having detention.

"I can't believe they let Snape give us detention for holidays," George complained for the fourteenth time, not that Fred counted or anything. "I thought it was against the rules!"

"It was," Fred replied sourly, "they made an exception for us, McGonagall said."

"They really shouldn't be bending the rules just for our sake," George remarked, "we would understand."

"They don't bend the rules, they make them. We are the ones who bend them."

"I thought we just ignored them."

For a moment they scrubbed the floor in silence. George marvelled at the absolute stickiness of the substance, and thought it would be pretty useful for many things. In fact, one of those uses was getting it all over the place, but only if someone else was the poor sod having to scrub it off. This stuff was near impossible to get rid of, especially without any magic. And their detention would not end before the classroom was sparkling clean, as Professor McGonagall had put it. George wanted to be angry with their Head of House for that, but his sane mind told him that if not for McGonagall, they'd be cleaning the room with their tongues.

Professor McGonagall had been furious. Professor Snape had been even more furious, because he'd been hit with the sticky mud-like substance. Rumours had it that he hadn't been able to get it all out of his hair yet. George tried to imagine a bald Snape and failed.

"George," Fred said, "I was thinking... when the cauldron exploded..."

"No, you weren't."

"What?"

"You weren't thinking when the cauldron exploded," George said, "I know, I was there. You were hitting your Transfiguration book with your Potions book to put it out, and then you were hitting Lee with your Transfiguration book to put them both out and then you were hitting yourself with your Charms book to get the potion off you."

"Why do I carry so many textbooks with me?" Fred was puzzled. "We didn't even have Transfiguration that day!"

"But lucky for Lee you did have it with you."

"Yes, but does he appreciate me carrying extra weight just to save him?" Fred exclaimed with indignation. "He said that he wasn't even on fire before I started hitting him with it, but you were there, you saw it, didn't you?"

"I saw enough to know you did absolutely no thinking during it," George diplomatically evaded the question.

"True," Fred had to agree, "but later..."

"You mean when Snape was screaming his voice raw at us?"

"After that..."

"Oh, then when McGonagall came and lectured her voice raw at us? Somewhere during her talk that even if she lived a thousand years, we could never disappoint her more than this?"

"A thousand years? She really is an optimist," Fred shook his head.

"Yes, it'd be more like two days..."

"True."

"So, what did you think?" George prompted.

"When?"

"I don't know when. Sometimes after McGonagall's speech, I suppose."

"She can really lecture until our ears start ringing. I mean, Snape's roaring was nothing compared to her mouth thinning. And it gets so thin!"

"Fred!"

"Oh. Yes. I remember now. I was thinking that when the cauldron exploded the whole class was in chaos. During that time we could have sneaked up on Snape and put a bell on him at any moment, and he would have noticed nothing."

"Ye-e-es," George said slowly, "and I think he was even a bit deaf from it, or he would have screamed his own ears off."

"So what I'm trying to tell you, if we want to put a bell on Snape, all we've got to do is blow up another cauldron," Fred summarized.

"And have detention for the whole of our summer break, too?"

"But we'd go down in history as..."

"Detention," George repeated in his serious no-nonsense voice, "all summer."

"They wouldn't?" Fred asked, doubtful.

"They would."

"So what?" Fred said sadly after a while, "no jingle Snape?"

"Speaking of Snape," George said, looking around, "where is he?"

"Why? Are you missing him already?"

"No, but I figured he'd stay here to enjoy every second of our utter and complete misery."

Fred was puzzled. That did make more sense than leaving them all alone in his classroom which they had already blown up once. A lot more sense. A lot a lot more sense. A lot a lot a lot... well, you get the idea.

"He isn't setting us up, is he?" Fred grew suspicious. "Waiting for us to do something... erm... to deduct more points and give lots and lots of detention?"

"Is he bald?"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," George said. "Don't mind me."

"I _try_ , but you do keep reminding yourself," Fred muttered, then recalled, "I think he said something about having to work."

"Work? Like potions?"

"He is the Potions Master, you know."

"So he's making a potion?"

"Could be."

"And it must be something very important or else he would have postponed it to witness our utter and complete misery?"

"Sounds reasonable."

"And it must be a potion that requires all his attention, or else he would have come here to witness at least some moments of our utter and complete misery?"

"Perhaps he's making a potion to get ours out of his hair?" Fred suggested, checked that Snape was nowhere in sight, and then snickered.

"Bald Snape?"

"I don't think a bald Snape would be any better than the regular kind," Fred frowned, considering the thought.

"Fred!" George snapped at him. "Pay attention! Don't you see what this means?"

"That… he'd have… no… hair?" Fred hazarded a wild guess.

"Forget Snape, this is about Snape. He's utterly and completely absorbed in his potion making."

"So we'll blow up his potion?"

"Detention," George narrowed his eyes, "all summer."

"Oh yes. We won't blow up his potion?"

"Completely and utterly absorbed," George repeated.

"And his hair's sticky," Fred said, caught up with their new, and even more brilliant plan.

"And will you look at that?" George said, pulling the bell out of his pocket. "I just happened to have this on me."

"That's a lucky coincidence. Almost like fate. Oh brother of mine, go with my blessing."

"We should stop saying that. It sounds weird."

George stood up, raised the bell, and put on the face of a hero about to save the world. Fred, who also happened to have his bell on him, wondered if he could slip by George in his moment of pride and glory, and get the thing done himself. But that would have been a bit too sly, and besides, as soon as Fred had thought it, George shook himself out of it, said, "I shall go," and went. He paused at the door to Snape's office, though, and looked back at Fred who was trying very hard to be proud and encouraging and overall a good brother.

"Well?" said George, who was a good brother, "are you coming or not?"

Half a second later, Fred was standing by his side at the door.

"Should we knock?" George wondered.

"Yes, I think we should. Because that would definitely interrupt his complete and utter absorption in this very delicate potion he's making and I'm sure it's going to end with another bang, and then there will be chaos and deafness, and we can put the bell on him, and end up in detention all summer long."

"So no knocking?"

"This is not the time to be polite, George," Fred said, and to show a good example, pushed the door rudely open.

"Mr Weasley," Snape said, looking up from the table where he was sitting and grading essays.

"We knocked!" Fred exclaimed.

"Is my classroom sparkling clean, Mr Weasley?"

"Yes, sir... well, no."

"Are you hoping I'm letting you off early because it's the night before Christmas?"

"No, sir," Fred replied with complete honesty.

"Good. Go back to the room and don't leave until it's clean."

"Yes, sir," Fred said, turned round and walked straight into George.

"Oww," he complained under his breath.

"Sir," George said, stepping into the room, "Are these our essays you're grading?"

"Do these look to you as your essays, Mr Weasley?"

"Don't know, sir," George admitted, moving closer, "It does look a bit like Fred's handwriting, unreadable as it is..."

"Mr Weasley!" Snape raised his voice. "Go back to the classroom and finish your detention. Unless you want to receive more?"

"No, sir, we're quite happy with the amount of utter and complete misery we have," George announced.

"Ten points for cheek, Mr Weasley, and that'll be twenty more if you don't leave at once."

George stalled another moment, glancing at the essay over Snape's shoulder.

"Thirty points from Gryffindor for your disobedience."

"No, sir, that can't be our essays," George said, straightening up, and heading for the door. "You graded it E, sir."

"I didn't know Snape gives E's," Fred said in awe once they were back in the classroom.

"He gives them to Slytherins," George explained. "We better get out of here."

"The room's not sparkling clean yet. Snape will be furious if we leave."

George was silent. There was a sudden jingle and then...

"WEASLEYS!"

Fred and George exchanged a glance.

"Run!" they shouted at the same time. And then they ran.

 _Jingle Snape, Jingle Snape, Jingle all the way, Oh what fun it is to run from a one-belled angry Snape._


End file.
